


The Fire Rises

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens
Genre: Captivity, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hatred is an consuming emotion.





	The Fire Rises

Poe is acquainted all too well with hatred. He knows the feeling of bitter fire that burns in the veins and leaves a strangely sharp weariness felt deep in his bones. It cuts deeper than the wake of sorrow left by all his losses, and leaves a smoldering pit that he knows not how to extinguish.  

The dark roots had creeped into his soul with more ferocity as the war had raged onwards towards an ever-bleaker finale. He does not know when the losses sustained stopped leaving cold sorrow. Nor does he recall a moment of clarity regarding the simmering rage that turned so fierce he can taste the char and ash on his tongue.

Each passing day fans the flame that is his hatred. He does not know when it spread from a focused point that was the First Order and its mad dog leader to a broad resentment of the very nature of the galaxy. Of the Force itself. An ire that the Force could influence and shape the galaxy to its will and yet fails to do so fills him with an intensity that nearly rivals the sting left by the betrayal of his once friend.

The hate is embraced with frightening ease by the time he discovers the purpose for which the self-appointed Supreme Leader has kept him alive for. It beats down the fear, twines itself with the disgust he feels when the Supreme Leader’s servants – slaves, he wonders? – take hold of him, stripping him so they may cleanse him outside and in. He even feels a spark of hatred ignite towards his own failures as they leave him strung up by his wrists from the ceiling of an opulent prison. Or maybe that spark had been there all along and was now being fanned as he is left to anticipate the arrival of his tormentor.

When the first strike of his former friend’s belt is felt across his bare back, his hatred narrows to a single stinging shard embedded in his heart. The pain at first acts as a focal point, that cracks as he is forced to keep himself still lest the belt find a more sensitive mark on his belly or groin. He hates the mocking visage of what once was Ben Solo, he despises himself for not being able to continue fighting.

As Kylo Ren uses his body as a release, the hate grows stronger until he is no longer certain whether his shortness of breath is caused by the physical pain that wracks his body inside and out or whether the emotion building in him has taken form and left no room for air in his chest.

More stinging than the belt is the pale attempt at comfort that Kylo shows when he personally bathes Poe after his lust has been satisfied. The evidence of Poe’s defilement may be washed away, but the nook that it has carved out in the growing crevice continues to deepen. The gentle way that those bloodstained hands knead a bacta salve into the welts they caused is as much a mockery of intimacy as the face the monster wears. Even when they tuck him into the lush bed and brush his hair back from his forehead hurts leaves an aching wound as biting as the belt.

He could feel pity for the lost soul that torments him so. If the ghosts of the ones who had loved them both dearly could, they likely tell him to let go of the harsh, soul-searing emotions. They would warn him that he is courting the dark side, even if he has no tangible connection to the Force. But, the loss of loved ones, of freedom, of dignity is felt too strongly. It stings too brightly for him to stamp out with any finality.

Perhaps that is what Kylo wants. Perhaps Poe is playing into his hands by letting him reshape his soul into the twisted ruin that is a mirror of Ren’s. The idea makes the hatred burn that much hotter.


End file.
